


Runaway

by ashesandhoney



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe, F/M, Kissing, Lots of kissing, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-10
Updated: 2016-03-10
Packaged: 2018-05-25 22:57:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6213508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashesandhoney/pseuds/ashesandhoney
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She kissed him to make a point. She didn't expect a kiss like that. She didn't expect it to happen again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Runaway

****

Chat Noir flirted like it was going out of style. He was all half grins and suggestive comments and twitching eyebrows. Marinette spent her days around models, most of whom weren't much better and it didn't faze her. She was going to be a designer but right now most of what she did was running errands for people who were already designers and models who thought they could order her around and that a wink was as good as an apology. Chat wasn't any better than any of them. 

He wanted attention and for months. She hadn't given it to him. 

Until one night, after the Akuma was gone and the two of them were standing alone on a rooftop, she finally did. 

"Shall we celebrate, My Lady?" he asked tilting his head towards her and batting his eyes. Exaggerated. Ridiculous. Adorable. 

"You couldn't handle me, Kitten," she said. 

"Try me," he said getting a little closer and letting the smile spread. 

So she kissed him. 

There were things she had expected from kissing Chat Noir and most of them came down to the assumption that he was a show off. She kissed him expecting it to be awful, expecting him to be arrogant and selfish. He wasn't anything she had expected. He didn't try to show off. He froze and his breathing hitched. She pulled back a little, prepared to be smug and to shoot down whatever smart ass comment he had lined up for this moment. 

His eyes were bright and green and startled and she forgot what she was going to say as she stared back at him. He caught her face with one hand, his palm sliding along her jaw and his claws never even brushing skin. Careful. He kissed her again. Gently and slowly. No one had ever kissed her like that. Her stomach flipped and her fingers were searching for something - anything - to hold onto. She needed to keep herself from falling. She grabbed hold of his shirt with one hand, palm on the bell and fingers tucked in under his collar. Her fingers against his skin. Her other hand found his hair and slid around to the back of his neck. 

He kept smiling at her and he was gentle even as he looped his arm around her waist and pushed her back until her shoulders hit brick. She pulled him in tighter, tugging on the bell and making him murmur against her mouth. Not really words, just a soft happy sound that made her smile back at him through the kiss. She teased at his lower lip until he opened his mouth for her and let her kiss him harder. 

When he pulled back, the grin he gave her was more than she could handle. Unapologetically happy. She echoed it with a smile of her own and let her hand fall on his cheek. His hands were on her waist. He leaned in but before he could kiss her mouth again, she looked away. He pressed his lips to her forehead instead.

"Good night, Kitty Cat," she said. 

He smiled at her, a little confused but still so happy. She kissed him on the cheek and then ducked out of his hold and ran away. 

She would spend the rest of the week telling herself a lot of things but the top of the list was that she had not run away. It was a lie. She’d run like hell and her heart hadn’t stopped racing since he’d smiled at her like that. 

 

  
It wasn't until there was another Akuma attack that she actually had to face him. His hands kept finding her body. He had always done this. A hand on her shoulder, an arm around her waist. They both did it, picking each other up or clinging together during flights between buildings. It had always happened but she’d never been so very aware of it. How had she ever been able to ignore his breath at her ear and his hands. His hands were slowly driving her mad. 

When he pushed her back into an alcove to avoid an attack, he got too close. They were perched on a ledge, a little left over space where a new building had overlapped an older one. At least three stories up with nothing but empty space and a few inches of stone work between them and a fall to the street. He didn’t have a choice but to stand close or at least she was sure that would be his excuse if she said anything. 

Not that she mentioned it. 

“Where is she?” Ladybug asked. 

“Circling the block I think, we lost her,” he said. 

“Ok,” she said. 

Then she had kissed him again. 

Chat Noir with all that balance and all that strength nearly stumbled out into open air in shock. She grabbed him by his belt and yanked him back in. He got over the surprise and kissed her back. She kept her hands tucked into his belt and held him close. His hands cupped her face. She let herself get lost in it. He was big enough and the alcove was small enough that he blotted out the entire world. 

There was a scream from somewhere on the street. 

“Time to go,” he said into her mouth. 

“Damn,” she said as she threw the yo-yo and swung away from the warmth of his body toward the threat, wherever it was. The battle went on as it always did except for the way his eyes caught hers. 

 

She didn’t get another chance to kiss him during that battle or the next. She managed to squeeze a few moments alone with him after a battle that had jumped the bridges up and down the Seine but not nearly as long as she wanted. It wasn’t enough. The quick kisses and the flirting. Not nearly enough.

 

Then there was an Akuma attack that happened in the middle of a Tuesday afternoon and screwed up her entire roster of meetings for the day. The only relief was that it also happened close enough to work to give her a plausible excuse for being late. Chat was there before her and he gave her a smile that was halfway between the heart piercing one he'd given her after the first kiss and his old flirty one. She did nothing but raise her eyebrows at him. 

Once this fight was over he pulled her away from the crowds and up onto another rooftop. His hands on her waist were enough to make her stomach try to climb up her throat but she must have given him a look that wasn't quite friendly because he dropped them immediately. She hadn't meant it. Maybe she had meant it. When had he gotten so damn confusing? She smiled at him but didn't touch him and he kept his hands to himself as well. 

"You're beeping," she said pointing at his ring. 

"So are you," he said. 

"Time to go home then," she said but she didn't turn to leave.  

"You could come with me, back to my place."

"Terrible idea."

"Why?"

"For all you know I'm married with four kids."

"Ladybug?"

"Yes?"

"Are you married?" he asked with the smirk firmly in place. She wanted to say yes, just to see what his reaction would be but the lie felt wrong. Even as a joke. She wasn't married. She hadn't even been dating anyone since she had left university and moved to Paris for this job. 

Maybe that's why she kept kissing the cat boy. It had been months and months. Long enough that she missed the ex-boyfriend and that was a dangerous sign. Superhero stuff took up time that might have gone to dating. A little voice told her that wasn't the only reason she wanted to kiss Chat Noir so much. 

"No," she said, "Are you?"

"No, tragically single and I'm so pretty," he said. 

She was down to one beep. She needed to decide if she would stay and flirt with the mystery man without her mask or if she would leave. She hesitated. She grabbed the bell again, pulled him in and kissed him. Hard and fast and she felt his body language change. He melted towards her and she held the kiss a little too long before she ran again. She barely made it to the street before the transformation fell apart. 

 

  
The next time, she was beeping and he wasn't. They were there in the middle of the street, people standing around them looking dazed and confused but they weren't looking at anyone in the crowd. There might as well have been no one there but him. He was all she saw. He raised his eyebrows just a little. A challenge. If it had been anything else, a declaration or a plea or even a request, she would have walked away from it but it was none of those. 

That look was a dare. She couldn't walk away from the dare. 

"Follow me," she said in the exact same tone she might have used during the battle but he didn't smile at her like he was following her into battle. He smiled at her like he was following her into a bedroom. 

It was late on a Sunday and it was a terrible idea but she did it anyways. She needed someplace to take him where they wouldn’t be found by anyone else. She was down to her second last beep by the time she got there and got the window open. He was at her back. Hand on her hip and chin on her shoulder as he looked at the room. He was breathing on her neck and she shivered with anything but cold. 

"What's this?" he asked. 

"Fabric warehouse," she said. 

"Any particular reason?" he asked. 

"Shitty security and no one around this time of day," she said. 

She pushed him down onto a sofa in an office that she had attended a meeting in not two days earlier. Bad idea. This was a terrible idea. He looked up at her, smiling and tilting his head enough to see her earrings. One spot left now. She put a finger on his nose and gave him a stern look. He folded his hands in his lap, sat up straight and gave her an obedient little smile. He was over six feet tall and still managed to look a little like a school boy. 

She rummaged until she found something that would work. She lost the change while she was doing it but she was behind him at that point and he was still sitting where she'd left him. She came up behind him and looped a ribbon sample around his eyes. He jumped but didn't turn around. It was heavy fabric and he stayed perfectly still while she tied it into a blindfold. 

"Kinky," he said. 

"You're the one in the leather suit," she said. 

"Which makes the question, what are you wearing under all the red?" he asked. 

"I was grocery shopping when people started turning into brightly coloured zombies, I'm wearing jeans and a Jagged Stone t-shirt," she said. 

She had come around to stand in front of him and he smiled at that. A different kind of smile again. Curious and happy, like he approved of her fashion choices. The man had a smile for every occasion. She reached out and traced this one with her finger and she saw him shiver. He kissed her finger and she shivered too. He couldn't see it but she still pulled her hand back and blushed at the strength of her reaction. 

"I'm going to climb into your lap and kiss you," she said. 

"This is becoming something of a habit for you," he said. 

"Are you complaining?" she asked. 

"Not in the slightest," he said. 

He reached for her. He held his hands out and slid forward a little on the seat. She stayed where she was and let his hands find her hips before she stepped out of range. He fumbled and then stopped as though he didn't want to embarrass himself. He was blushing just a little. The mask and the blindfold made it hard to tell but there was pink across his cheeks. 

"Come back," he said. 

The blush was what undid her. 

She stepped back in and he grabbed hold of her this time. Hands on her thighs and then sliding up to hold her hips and tug her toward him. He was smiling again. She needed to start taking pictures if she was going to be able to figure out what each smile meant. She looked down at him. Cat ears twitching. All blond and black. The blindfold a splash of red. She straddled his knees, standing in front of him. She wanted to be closer, to press into him. He held her hips in his hands and she let him keep her there no matter how loudly want was pounding in her ears. 

He leaned in until his face found her stomach and for a long moment he just looped his arms around her and held her in a hug. 

She kept expecting lust and she kept getting this. She was not going to name it. She refused to name the look in his eyes when he'd smiled at her after the first kiss. She was not going to name the feeling that went with being held like this. She pet his hair and smiled at him. He held on for a long time and she slipped her hand down the back of his neck and into the collar of this suit and rubbed the base of his neck. He leaned into her tilted his head to give her better access. 

"I thought you were going to kiss me," she said. 

He pulled back from the hug and slipped his hand up the back of her shirt. She gasped as he pushed it higher. There were two voices in her head and she wasn't sure until she did it, which one was going to win. She pulled the shirt out of his hand and took it off. The voice whispering warnings fell silent. She laid the shirt on the desk and caught an incredulous smile from Chat before he kissed her stomach. 

Standing was suddenly very difficult. He took her weight without seeming to notice. He just tightened his hold on her hips and kept kissing from the hem of her jeans up her stomach to the band of her bra and then past it as she collapsed onto his lap. He didn't take her bra off, didn't even try, but he did kissed the skin of her breast where he could reach it before he finally found her neck. He sucked and kissed and dragged his teeth over her pulse on his way to her mouth. 

She was smiling in spite of herself as she finally regained enough of her senses to grab hold of his face and kiss him properly. He grinned under her mouth and she cuddled in a little closer. His arms tightened on her waist so her body was pulled flush to his. She had to spread her knees wider to make it possible. The feel of his suit against her stomach made her already too hot skin prickle. He pulled out the tie in her hair and ran his fingers through it, pushing it loose. She arched against him, her entire body twisting for more touch and he groaned. 

Groaned into her mouth as he pulled her tighter.

That woke her up to just how far they had gone. 

"Chat," she said. 

She pulled back to sit on his knees and look at his face. Her fingers came up to trace his cheekbones and the edge of the mask and to fiddle with the blindfold a little bit before running over his lips again. She was jumpy. Her body and her heart were well ahead of her mind on this and she needed to calm down. 

"Are we stopping?" he asked. 

"Do you want to?" she asked. 

"No," he said, "Never, I could do this all day." 

Her thumb was on his lip and his hands were on her hips. All day sounded very good. 

"We're partners," she said. 

"I know," he said. 

"We're not this."

"We could be."

Her stomach twisted too far. Not desire, well, not only desire. There was something closer to fear there too. She did not know this person's name. She knew nothing about him. The voice in her head that whispered back that she trusted him more than anyone else wasn't enough to calm her nerves. She sat back a little farther. She put as much distance between them as she could without standing up or pulling his hands off her body. 

"Hey, Bug," his voice was soft and reassuring and he stroked bare skin where his hand rested at her hip. She couldn't move or think for a moment. 

"I gotta go," she said but she didn't move. 

"No, stay, we don't have to do this, we can do anything you want. Talk, fist fight, you can tie me the rest of the way up, anything," he said. 

She laughed and he answered it. Hers was a surprised bark and his was a chuckle, warm and friendly. She didn't know him. Did anything count when you had a mask in the way? This smile was shy. Was he shy? Was he a sarcastic bastard? Would he really do anything she asked of him or was that some sort of act? She stayed on his lap and stared at him. He couldn't see her. She could categorize his expressions and he couldn't even see where she was. 

He leaned in and it was a request. She met him for another kiss. A soft one.

"Oh," he said just before he kissed her back just as softly. 

Warmth was pooling in her body again but she tried to ignore it. She tried to ignore that she was missing her shirt and that she could feel him under the leather getting harder with each little movement either of them made. 

She tried to ignore it all. 

Until she couldn't anymore. 

She pulled away from him. Fumbling and stumbling as she got to her feet. His hands stayed where they had been for a moment as though her body was still between them. When he let them fall he grabbed hold of the cushion he was sitting on and squeezed it hard. He was flushed and he couldn’t see her, she sure he couldn’t see her, but he was facing her all the same. 

"I really gotta go," she said. 

"We should pick up patrols again," he said in a hazy voice. 

"Patrol doesn't mean this," she said. 

"So not patrol then, we should meet up for whatever this is," he said. 

"This isn't anything," she said. 

"Yeah it is," he said. 

Her body and that voice in her head resented being separated from him. She grabbed her shirt and pulled it on and stopped to stare at him. 

His lips were flushed from all the kissing and he had a half smile on his mouth, like he'd forgotten he was even doing it. Stupid smiles. He had leaned forward and his elbows were braced on his knees so that his hands hung down between them. She could push those knees apart and he'd lean back and smile at whatever she did. He was still blindfolded but wasn't any less at ease for it. 

"Nine," she said. 

"Tomorrow night?" he asked. 

"Yeah," she said. 

She had backed away so that her hand was on the door of the office. Ready to run again. 

"Rooftop over the bakery?" he suggested. 

"Someone lives there that isn't either you or me," she said. 

"And they obviously never go up there," he said. 

"Ok," she said. 

"Can I have one more kiss before you go?" he asked. 

"Gonna have to wait," she said because if she went back there, if she kissed him again, she wasn't going to be able to stop this time. He gave her an exaggerated pout and it made her laugh before she whirled out of the office and into the empty hallway beyond. Her heart was beating too fast as she ran away. 

Again. 

 

  
This time they were both in costume and there wasn't any threat to distract them. He was there before she was and her imagination called an image of him waiting and nervous. He was all grins as she dropped down beside him. The little terrace was an untended rooftop garden. It could have been something cozy and adorable but it was empty and unused. She sat on the railing and flashed him a grin. 

"Can I have my kiss now?" he asked. 

"There are three of you, all living in the same person," she said ignoring the request. 

"What's that?" he asked. 

He advanced on her, all swagger and confidence. Sitting like this, she was taller than he was. She wasn't much shorter than he was anyways but he still tried to use his size to his advantage. 

It was kind of working even if she didn't want to admit that. Hot. He was hot. She had tried to avoid using the word but when he moved like this there was no ignoring it. Broad shoulders and shaggy hair and a jawline that a model would kill for. He was lean muscle and the suit was tight enough that she knew it.

"There's this you," she said with a careless wave of her hand, he looked down at himself and back up with a question in his eyes and the smirk firmly in place. She grinned and continued, "He's over confident. Swagger and arrogance and terrible pick up lines. They're all terrible. If you were wondering, every single one is terrible." 

"And yet here you are," he said. 

"See?" she said, "That's exactly what I mean." 

"So tell me about the other two mes," he said. 

"There's the shy you. The one who is surprised when his flirtation works. He's the one who goes back to make sure that that kid - the one I never even saw - gets back to their mother. He's sweet but he's not nearly as secure as he'd like to be. He’s hiding behind the swagger but I see him sometimes," she said. 

He was standing in front of her now, his face turned up and his eyes bright. The look he gave her suggested that she had hit a little close to home. She wanted to reach for him. Shy Chat Noir made her want to wrap her arms around him and whisper promises of reassurance. 

She wasn't ready to do that. That scared her too much. That was the unnamed emotion. She wasn't ready for the unnamed emotion even if it was what kept her up at night with rushing thoughts and memories of his cheek against her stomach or his lips on her forehead.

"He's nervous and not as experienced as he pretends to be," she pushed more to distance herself from the need to pull him in than to hurt him. He didn't seem hurt by it. He gave her a tilting challenging grin and she leaned in to kiss his nose. 

"Then there is the you that I don't know," she said. 

"You'd like him," he said. 

"I don't know, which of you is he more like?" she asked. 

He actually considered that. The swagger fell away and he thought about it. His hands had fallen on the rail on either side of her but he kept himself back so that he didn't crowd into her space. 

"Shy Chat Noir is more like real me. Most of the time, anyways," he said finally. He said it like it was an admission, like it was something he was a little embarrassed about. She smiled and tried to imagine him without the mask but couldn’t do it.

"Yeah?" she asked. 

"Yeah," he said. 

"Good, I like him better," she said. 

"What about regular you?" he asked, "Is she the one who takes charge of any situation and always does the right thing or is she the one who stutters and panics and runs?" 

"Yes," she said without hesitation. 

He laughed. Exploded into laughter. He had to brace himself as he leaned in and laughed hard enough that people in nearby buildings had to be able to hear it. When he'd calmed down enough to look up at her, he was radiant. Laughter suited him. She leaned in and kissed him. 

His hands clenched into the rail on either side of her and she spread her knees so that there was room for him between them. She held his face and kissed him hard. Kissed him like she wanted a taste of that laughter and if she could kiss him hard enough and deep enough, she'd find it. 

He was melting again. Melting into her. All the swagger fell away and left her with the boy who was all want. Sweet and kind. She held him, wrapped herself around him like she could protect him. She didn't name the feeling. Even now, she still couldn't name the feeling but it was thrumming through her with every beat of her heart. Every beat of his heart. She had never been so aware of some one else's heartbeat before.

He let the kiss go so he could nuzzle her neck and rest his head on her shoulder. She took the invitation to pet his hair and kiss his forehead and hold onto him. She didn’t whisper reassurance but she tried to put it into every touch. He sighed and cuddled and held her close. 

"You're such a kitten, are you this cuddly without the costume?" she asked. 

"It's you, not the suit," he said. 

"You're telling me that you're not this cuddly with anyone else?" she asked. 

"My dating history is horrendous," he said.

"Curious," she said. 

"I was homeschooled and had very few friends so when the one friend I did have suggested that we date, I agreed because I had no idea what I was signing up for. Five years later I had finally had enough and I left her. I haven’t dated anyone else. I've never kissed anyone but you," he said. 

"And her?" she said. 

"She kissed me, I've been kissed. But this," he ran a thumb along her lower lip, "Is not that. I'd never wanted it like I wanted it the first time you kissed me. I didn't get it - all those things in love songs and romance novels - I didn't understand any of it until I had you."  

“You’re such a romantic,” she scoffed. She scoffed because otherwise she had to hear all those words and she wasn’t sure she could hear him say that and not run away again. The joke was armour. 

“Yeah, I know,” he said. 

“Come here,” she said. 

She pulled his face back to kiss him again. She wasn’t going to put it into words but she could put it into this kiss. This she could do. Slow and soft this time. Not like the last onr. He stayed gentle but he pushed into the space between her legs and she wrapped them around his waist. This place was too public. That thought was followed by a terrifying one. She wanted him someplace private. She wanted him all to herself. She wanted so many things she still wasn't ready to put into words. 

When he pulled her in and picked her, she wrapped herself around him a little tighter and kissed him a little harder. He held her easily. She sat back a little straighter so balanced in his arms. Like a little kid. She looked down at him and he blinked back up with a lazy smile and kiss flushed lips. No. Not like a little kid at all. She pushed her fingers into his hair and found his human ears then slid up until she found his cat ones. The gloves prevented her from being able to truly feel how soft his hair was but she remembered. 

"What are you doing?" he asked. 

"Exploring," she said and he flushed just a little at the word. 

"I like it when you blush for me, Kitty Cat," she said leaning down and kissing the end of his nose.

"You don't blush often," he said. 

"You can make me blush. I'm sure of it, you're just going to have to get creative," she said. 

He considered her. Her heart rate took off just from the look in his eyes. She was in over her head. Her mouth kept running beyond what she was able to keep up with. But she had said it. Now that she had said it, she wasn't going to take it back. Chat walked her back to where they had started and sat her on the edge of the railing. She took a deep breath and looked up at him. He kept one around around her back and traced down her cheek with the other. She had to remind herself to take another breath. 

He held her gaze and then stroked down to her neck with just one finger against her skin. Her head tilted back. She didn't do it on purpose but it happened. She let her eyes flutter shut once they weren't trapped by his gaze. He went from one finger to his palm once he reached her suit. His hand traveled over her shoulder then down her arm. Someone touching her arm should not have caught her like this. She was gripping the rail hard enough that she was probably going to leave finger shaped imprints. His hands traveled down and traced her fingers and then started moving back up. 

She stayed still. She reminded herself to breathe. 

When he reached her collar bone he paused. 

"That didn't take that much creativity," he said. 

She tried to look offended, tried to find a come back but he tilted his head like he did the first time she had kissed him and she gave up any attempt at resistance. She wanted it too much. She leaned in and closed that damned space between them. 

Later, they curled together on a rickety lawn chair someone had left up there years ago. He kept running his hands up and down her arms. She sat on his lap and rested her head on his shoulder in just the right way to keep her forehead against his neck. The suits didn’t leave nearly enough skin to touch. 

They weren’t designed for this. They were designed for battles. Maybe that thought was to blame for what she said next. 

"Do you know where, the little bistro by the river is? Pierrot’s?" she asked. 

"Yeah?" he said. 

"I think you should go on a blind date there on Friday," she said. 

"You can get a table there?" he asked. 

"Yeah, it's going to take calling in favours but yeah," she said. 

"Ok," he said, "What time is my date?" 

"5," she said. 

"That's early," he said. 

"Miracles are harder to do outside the costume. We could do Thursday at 7," she said. 

"Sooner is better," he said. 

“Wednesday then,” she said before she pulled him down to kiss. 

 

  
While he was there it had seemed like a good idea. It had seemed like it was a forgone conclusion. She had to do it. She had to drag him down off of rooftops and out of costume and into her life. It had seemed like a good idea. Now she had a blind date with a man who wasn't a stranger but whose name she still didn't know. 

What did you wear to a date with a superhero who liked to cuddle? Where was the Cosmo article on that? She stared at her closet in dismay. She knew him. She knew he thought her Jagged Stone t-shirt was cute and that he liked it when her hair was down. She also didn't know him at all. She discarded one dress as too suggestive and then another as too conservative. She tried on tights and every pair of shoes she owned and ended up discarding them all on the bed. 

"How did you get roped into a blind date?" Alya asked from the doorway of her room, looking at the explosion of clothing. 

"I don't know, temporary madness," she said flinging a cardigan onto the pile on her bed. 

"You're beautiful, he's going to be blown away, whoever he is," Alya said with a wink. 

Marinette didn't think that was particularly helpful but Alya put down her cup of tea and waded into the sea of clothing options and started offering suggestions until Marinette was finally dressed in something that didn't throw her into a panic. Red jeans and a white blouse with a lace panel in the back that Alya swore was the right blend of sexy and sophisticated. Marinette couldn't tell anymore what accounted for fashion. This was what she did every day and yet her brain had shut off. 

She was still overwhelmed when she made it to the bistro. She was the first one there. She had made the reservation under Noir and once she was seated, she ordered a glass of wine and focused on her breathing. This had been her idea, she couldn't run away now. Still, she was an assistant at a fashion house. She was a nobody. What if he was expecting her to be something more?

"Bug?" he said in a soft voice, like it was a secret. It was a secret. 

She didn't look up immediately. She let her gaze travel up him. He'd worn black pants and a blazer over a white shirt. Plain. Perfect. Simple and uncomplicated. She finally looked at his face and this stranger gave her Chat Noir's shy happy smile and she grinned back at him. It was like a reflex. She knew him. How had she doubted that? Of course, she knew  him. 

He sat down, ordered whatever she was drinking and took the menu from the waiter. He did it all without looking away from her. 

He was blonde and his eyes were almost as bright green as they were in costume. Model jaw line, piano player's fingers, perfect teeth, something about the way the suit was cut said money but he wasn't playing it up. No fancy watch, no jewelry but a single ring. Chat Noir's ring. He wasn't wearing a tie. He wasn't what she had expected but the way he smiled was exactly the way her Kitty Cat smiled at her. 

"Hello," she said. 

"Hello," he said. 

She held out a hand like it was a job interview. He took it and kissed the back of her fingers because it was very much not a job interview. The feeling she had been refusing to name curled in her chest and wrapped itself around her heart. She left her hand in his. Warm, soft hands. He had never touched her with his hands before. All that confidence she had in costume, all her teasing and her flirting stuttered to a stop when she was just herself and he was looking at her like this and that feeling kept curling and expanding in her chest. 

"I'm Marinette," she said. 

"Adrien," he said. 

"It's nice to finally meet you," she said. 

He gave her a flirty grin and tilted his head to the side. She laughed and leaned over the little table to kiss him. She finally gave the feeling a name. 

Love. That's what it was. That is what it had always been. She loved him. She had loved him for a very long time.

**Author's Note:**

> I completely cut the Kwamis from this AU. Sorry Tikki and Plagg, I love you but this wasn't your story.
> 
> Also they don't know each other outside of costume in this AU. I considered it to be honest. I considered having her meet Adrien at some work event before the date but really, it distracted from the point of this story. 
> 
> The point of this story is Ladybug and Chat Noir kissing a lot. I have no regrets on that front. None. 
> 
> Also I blame this comic: http://starrycove.tumblr.com/post/138961924840/slams-fists-on-table-au-where-everything-is and a tumblr post I can't find that accused Chat Noir of being dressed for "soft bondage" for starting the thought process that led to this story.


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